Sensory Overload
by MioneAlterEgo
Summary: Smell, Sound, Sight, Taste, and Touch. In which Kensi Blye and Marty Deeks finally come to their senses. Note: This story is all Densi, all the time. No side-ships here.
1. Sense of Smell

**SENSORY OVERLOAD  
****by MioneAlterEgo**

**DISCLAIMER: **I, the undersigned, do hereby acknowledge that I own absolutely nothing about this show, except a couple of DVD box sets and a box full of paperclips to use on Mssrs. Brennan, Kalstein, et. al., if they drag out Densi for seven seasons the way the NCIS show-runners have done to Tiva...

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **This story started out as a one-shot about touch. Then, a plot bunny for a scene on sound/hearing showed up. Then I thought, "Why not just do all five?" And this is what happened. There will be five chapters (one for each of the five major senses, naturally) and they're all already written, waiting patiently in the queue to be posted. Also, this one is all Densi, all the time, so for those who shy away from my Nallen-y fics, fear not: this one is pure, unadulterated Kensi/Deeks goodness with no additives, preservatives, or artificial flavors.

Confession: This story has been complete for several weeks, and I was procrastinating on posting because I couldn't get the darn summary sounding decent. It always came out sounding either like a bad p0rn fic or something written by a semi-illiterate pre-teen. But thankfully my dear friends/betas/sounding-boards-extraordinaire Mel(**imahistorian**) and Angela (**Angela6257**)once again came to the rescue with inspiration, encouragement, and refreshing beverages! Special shout-out also to Mel's Siri, who sent pleading text messages and faithfully reminded me to post this darn thing. (Incidentally, the first chapter of Mel's new story **"Feel the Tide" **is now up. It's a sequel to her beyond-brilliant "Truth Be Told," and I highly recommend it for your Densi-reading pleasure!) And always, always thank YOU for reading! Hope you enjoy!

* * *

She recognizes the smell of hospital before her eyes even open. It takes her a moment longer to realize she's the one in the bed with the tubes in her arms this time, instead of the one dozing uncomfortably in a chair.

She hates this smell, the cloying smell of chemicals and disinfectant, and she swears at times even the smell of blood. Her stomach rolls uncomfortably and she takes a slow, concentrated breath, in through the nose and out through the mouth, in an attempt to tamp down the nausea.

There, in the whiff of hospital air, is a much more familiar scent. It's sunlight, sweat, and a little bit of shampoo. Relief washes over her in waves, and she slowly forces her eyes open, pupils stinging at the invasion of even the dim light around her.

The only light in the room is a single lamp somewhere near her head. The darkness outside the window indicates it's late, late at night, and yet there he sits. Deeks is twisted uncomfortably in a wooden chair at her bedside, arm in a sling, legs propped up at the foot of her mattress. He's sporting a black eye and a couple of mild abrasions on his face but otherwise doesn't look any worse for wear. As much as she hates to wake him she's confused and a little disoriented; she vaguely remembers the sound of a car backfiring, but that wouldn't explain his injuries or why she's currently hooked up to an IV drip and a heart monitor.

When she glances back at his face his eyes have opened, peering at her in silence as if trying to figure out the answer to his question without voicing it. He speaks anyway, quietly, as if out of respect for the darkness in the room.

"How are you feeling?"

"Am I on painkillers?"

"Yeah," he snorts. "Several."

"That figures. I'm feeling pretty good. I think people in hospital beds aren't supposed to wake up feeling this good. Otherwise they probably wouldn't be in the hospital at all..."

Deeks chuckles softly as he drags himself up from the chair. Drug-hazy Kensi isn't a sight he's ever really gotten to see before, mostly because coherent Kensi refuses to take anything stronger than a Motrin. Kensi's face grows serious as Deeks perches on the side of the bed, using his one good hand to tug hers into his lap. His warm, slightly calloused fingers stroke carefully around the port where her IV has been placed. She frowns slightly.

"Deeks, what happened? What am I doing in a hospital?"

"You don't remember?"

"Not at the moment."

"Well, we're officially even now. You got shot. Twice, actually. You were covering for Sam and Callen and me."

"Are they-?"

"Everyone's a little banged up, but yeah, we're all fine. You won the injury prize this time."

"I got shot twice?"

"Yup."

"Where?"

"Once in the abdomen, just above your hip, the other in your left leg. No chasing down suspects for you for a while."

Kensi nods as though considering this, then stops and crinkles her nose.

"What's that smell?" she grumbles. "I didn't notice it before now, but it smells like something's burning."

Deeks sniffs the air for a moment before giving her a quizzical look and shaking his head. "There's no burning smell."

"Yes, there is," Kensi insists. "You just can't smell it because it smells like hospital in here."

He eyes her carefully before leaning toward her, putting his face very close to hers and drawing in a deep breath. Kensi compensates by not breathing at all, stunned into inaction by his sudden proximity. Deeks chuckles again.

"It's your hair, Kens. It smells like gun powder or something. Or maybe it got singed in the explosion before the firefight. But that's what you smell."

Kensi takes a deep breath again and sighs contentedly. No longer can she smell the burnt hair smell from a moment before, or even the disinfectant hospital stench that has permeated her airways. Deeks' face is mere inches away from hers, and all she can smell is the same familiar scent she detected before even opening her eyes: sunlight, sweat, and shampoo, but this time it's mingled with a little bit of coffee on his breath and something that reminds her of chocolate.

The words are out of her mouth well before she has the conscious thought to stop them.

"You should just sit here like this. You smell really good."

Deeks grins. "I think that's the drugs talking, Princess. I haven't had a shower in almost 24 hours and we could both use a stick of deodorant right about now."

"No, you do. You smell really good. You just smell like you. It's nice."

His eyes glitter with amusement and darken just half of a shade. "When you come off the pharmaceuticals I am so going to remind you of this conversation."

"Eh. I don't care. I don't care about aaaaaanything right now," she croons. "Just as long as you stay sitting here where I can smell you."

"You're weird when you're drugged up."

"Don't care. Doooooon't caaaaare..."

Deeks' hoot of laughter alerts the nurses in the hallway to the fact that their patient is now awake, and the spell is broken as a stream of medical professionals file through the room. But when Kensi returns to work the following week, Deeks takes a little extra time with his morning shower routine and double-checks that he's chosen a freshly-laundered shirt for the day, and he makes a point of standing as close to her as possible when they go up to Ops for their briefing. He drops a couple of hints, but it's obvious she doesn't remember her chemically induced conversation from when she woke up in the hospital. It doesn't escape his notice, however, that she leans into him a little more than usual that day and takes a deep breath whenever he brushes past her.

Kensi isn't sure why she's never noticed it before, but Deeks smells really, really good. _If I ever find the right moment,_ she thinks to herself, _maybe I should tell him sometime. _


	2. Sense of Hearing

**SENSORY OVERLOAD  
****by MioneAlterEgo**

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own the characters or anything to do with the real show. I own a laptop and a few plot bunnies... or perhaps the bunnies own me.

**AUTHOR'S NOTES: **Apologies for my excessive tardiness and for not yet replying to the very lovely reviews that have been left. I very much appreciate them and I promise to reply to them this week! Thanks as always to **imahistorian **and **Angela6257 **for holding me accountable and (in this particular case) withholding alcohol and refined sugar until I posted this. Yea, verily, they rocketh muchly.

This chapter might be one of my favorites out of everything I've written, just for ridiculous, giggly entertainment value. Hope it makes you giggle, too. Enjoy!

* * *

"It was _terrible_! I just kept waiting for it to be _over_," Nell howled, despite the amusement evident in her tone.

"I know what you mean! The last time it happened I was actually going over my grocery list in my head and trying to remember whether I needed paper towels or not!"

Deeks heard Kensi's exaggerated groan of aggravation and Nell's surprised burst of laughter carry across the bullpen from the nearby seating area. Though the two women got along well he'd never known them as close friends outside of OSP, so hearing them laughing and commiserating about what was obviously some shared traumatic experience caught his attention immediately. His curiosity got the better of him, and Deeks cautiously ventured over toward where Nell and Kensi were seated on one of the overstuffed couches, facing one another and bubbling with laughter.

"You two seem to be having a good time. It sounds like a slumber party over here. What were you talking about?"

"Oh, you know…" Nell hedged. "We were just discussing a common experience. Something every woman has been through at some point in her life that most guys probably never have."

Deeks' face wrinkled in disgust. "Does this have to do with ovaries and stuff? I was gonna stick around until this escalated into a naked pillow fight, but if you two are discussing girly problems…"

"Not that kind of common experience, Deeks," Kensi assured him, casting Nell a hesitant look. The younger woman raised an eyebrow at Kensi and pressed her lips together as though choosing her next words carefully.

"Let me rephrase my last statement, Detective Deeks. It's an experience that LOTS of men have been through. Most of them just don't realize it's happened to them."

Deeks frowned. Nell seemed to be speaking in some kind of strange she-code, because although her statement had made almost zero sense to him, Kensi was now biting back a fresh wave of laughter.

"Any minute now, one or both of you will start speaking English and I'll understand what's going on here."

"Are they speaking female to each other again?" G Callen's voice carried down from the upstairs walkway. Callen, Sam, and Eric were making their way back down to the main floor and had apparently only caught the tail end of Deeks' conversation with Nell and Kensi.

Kensi sighed. "Did you ever see the movie _When Harry Met Sally_, Deeks?"

"Um… yes? I think?"

Nell took a deep breath before finishing the explanation: "We were discussing the restaurant scene."

"Could you repeat that?"

"The restaurant scene," Sam groaned. "That scene struck fear and insecurity into the heart of every man who's ever watched it."

"Wait a second," Eric interrupted. "What restaurant scene? What are we talking about?"

"Nell and I were discussing times in our lives when it has been necessary to… Oh, how should I put this? To sell a cover in order to end an unsuccessful operation."

"Come again?"

"No, not at all," Nell quipped. "That's kind of the problem."

"Would you both just speak English for a second?"

"They're talking about times they've faked it, Eric," Sam groaned. "The restaurant scene in _When Harry Met Sally. _Meg Ryan's character faked a _very_ convincing orgasm right in the middle of a crowded diner."

"'I'll have what she's having,'" Nell muttered. When every pair of male eyes in the room shot over to her, she blushed furiously but continued speaking anyway. "Don't look at me like that! We've all done it. It's not personal. Sometimes it's a means to an end."

Eric turned a faint shade of green, Sam shook his head as though thoroughly disappointed in something, and Callen glanced between Kensi and Nell with a mixture of apprehension and disbelief. Deeks, however, stared Kensi down defiantly.

"Not with me. Women who go home with me aren't in the habit of having to fake their way out of anything."

"How would you know, Deeks?" Kensi challenged.

"I'd be able to tell. _Trust me_, I'd be able to tell."

Her eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, hearing a challenge (whether implied or imagined) in her partner's confident assertion.

"You sound pretty sure of yourself."

"Oh, I am, Princess."

Nell whispered a quiet "oh dear," and the other three men shifted slowly away as Kensi and Deeks squared up to one another. An evil, cat-like smile spread across Kensi's face as she took a step forward and leaned toward him, bringing herself chest to chest with her partner. She tilted her chin up to bring her mouth as close to his ear as possible.

And then it started.

First, it was nothing more than a deep breath followed by a slow, breathy sigh. Then, another slightly faster breath—almost a gasp—and a satisfied hum on the exhale. Then, another breath and a long, quiet moan as Kensi's eyes fell shut and her head fell backward.

Deeks' eyebrows nearly shot off of his forehead.

Four pairs of male eyes watched in unchecked horror as Kensi's breaths got faster and shallower, punctuated now by gasps and hitches in her breathing. Her quiet moans turned into louder groans of pleasure, interrupted by whispered swear words and hissed demands of _"more" _and _"oooh, right there" _and "_ohGoddon'tstop._" Groans turned to cries of pleasure, then into near shrieks of ecstasy, culminating in several loud, enthusiastic cries of _"Oh Marty… Marty!... MARTY! OH!"_

With one final sustained groan of sated pleasure, Kensi paused for effect, then stepped back to look Deeks in the face as though nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred between them.

"So, Deeks, did any of that sound familiar?" Kensi asked, wicked smirk still tugging at her lips even as her tone dripped with sarcastic innocence. She turned on her heel to face Nell, who hadn't moved from her spot on the couch and sat with a hand plastered over her mouth, her body shaking with suppressed laughter. "Come on, Nell, let's get out of here. I think we've given the guys enough to think about for one day."

As the two women sauntered off (with perhaps a little more sway in their steps than was strictly necessary under the circumstances) all four men breathed a collective sigh of relief. Finally, Sam broke the awkward silence.

"That might be the single most uncomfortable thing I've ever witnessed in my life."

"I will never be able to un-hear that," Deeks muttered.

"Me either. I don't think I'll ever be able to have sex again. Ever. Not without _that_ playing on repeat in my head," Eric whined.

"Yeah, well, consider it a call to action," Callen sighed. "Just make sure you're doing what you've gotta do to ensure THAT never happens to you."

"Has it ever happened to you?!"

"No."

"How can you be sure?"

"Hell, Eric, after that I'm not sure about anything anymore," Callen shot back. "But just because you strike out every now and then doesn't mean you retire from the game!"

"Look, this has all been fun, but could we all just get back to work now and agree to never discuss this again? Ever?" Deeks offered. "Don't ask, don't tell?"

"Agreed."

"Absolutely."

"For sure."

"Fine. Fine," Deeks answered. "Then we all agree. This never happened, and we're never talking about it again. Ever."

But even if no one was discussing it, Deeks couldn't stop thinking about it. His brain couldn't get over the sound of Kensi calling his name. His subconscious refused to leave it alone.

Just before quitting time, he slid silently up behind Kensi where she sat at her desk and he leaned down, bringing his mouth inches from her ear, effectively turning the tables on her from their earlier situation.

"It's a real shame," Deeks murmured. Kensi's eyebrows arched and she set down her pen, devoting her full attention to whatever ridiculous defense she was sure Deeks would have for the day's earlier interaction.

"What's a shame?" she asked.

"That you've ever had to figure out how to do _that_ convincingly in the first place," Deeks whispered. "It was a great performance and all. Incredible, actually. You've clearly had practice." At that, Kensi's mouth dropped open and she started to turn in her chair to face him, but he anticipated her movement and brought his hands down on the armrests on either side of her, holding her in place.

"All I'm saying though, Kens," he continued, his voice little more than a gravelly hum against her ear, "is that if you're with someone who knows what he's doing, you wouldn't have had to learn in the first place. A guy who knows you well enough—a guy who cares enough—would make sure you never had to perform like that again as long as you live. You should never settle for someone who gives you anything less than the real thing… over, and over, and over again."

Without another word he stood, tossed her a smirk and a careless "good night," and sauntered out of the building.

Kensi's brain replayed his words for the rest of the night. _The real thing… over, and over, and over again._ She silently cursed her partner and made a mental note to punch him extra hard the next time the situation presented itself. He'd forever ruined her brain with that statement.

After all, some things you just can't un-hear.


End file.
